


12 C's of Connor

by Jojora



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Kink, M/M, Mild Painplay, Painful Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 09:11:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7216405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jojora/pseuds/Jojora
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Connor likes pain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	12 C's of Connor

**Author's Note:**

> In my head, I set this as the night after Sinclair's murder, but the timeline is irrelevant to the smut.

_If Oliver had to use one word to describe Connor, it would be composed. Or maybe confident. Composed, confident Connor. Those words had a ring to them, and it wasn’t just because of the alliteration. It was because anyone who knew Connor knew how well that description fit. Connor could charm his way into anything, despite his cocky arrogance. Composed, confident, charming, cocky Connor._

Oliver chuckled to himself as he pondered what other words he could use to describe his boyfriend that began with the letter C. 

_Calm, cool, collected… crazy. Yeah, that was the one. Crazy. Because to the outside world, there was the composed, confident, charming, cocky, calm, cool, collected Connor. But Oliver was starting to see a different Connor. Crazy Connor._

_Of course, Connor had always been a bit crazy, but in a fun and spontaneous way. Like running all the way to Oliver’s apartment on a whim or having an insatiable sex drive. But this was a different kind of crazy, and it all started after Connor had a nervous breakdown on Oliver’s doorstep._

_After that, the changes were subtle. Connor had the occasional nightmare. He slept a little less. He ate a little less. He deteriorated little by little, so slowly that most people didn’t even notice. And he became a little more interested in and attached to Oliver than he ever had been before. Clingy Connor._

_But Oliver worried about him a lot. And now, Connor didn’t come home last night. This wasn’t that weird, since he often spent all-nighters at work or in the library, but he always texted Oliver to let him know and Oliver hadn’t received a text. And there is probably nothing to worry about, and he wants to believe that he trusts Connor, but a small voice in the back of his head is always wondering if Connor is going to go off and cheat on him again. Because that was another C that had roared it’s ugly head once: cheating Connor._

Oliver jumped a little when he heard the front door open, jarred out of his string of thoughts. He turned to see Connor enter the apartment and drop his bag on the floor with a tired and weary look on his face. He seemed to have that look on his face a lot these days. 

“Hey! Where have you been?” Oliver asked, trying to keep his voice neutral so as to not reveal the paranoia that had been lurking in his mind. 

Connor just shrugged as he slumped down onto the opposite side of the couch from Oliver. 

Oliver took a moment to evaluate Connor. He had bags under his eyes and exhaustion lined his face. His eyes looked tired and broken. His hair was messy. His body sagged like his limbs were too heavy. Oliver relaxed, knowing that Connor hadn’t cheated on him, but it was quickly replaced with concern for his boyfriend’s current state. Something was definitely wrong.

“Another sex party?” Oliver quipped, trying to cheer Connor up.

Connor’s lips curved up only slightly, just enough to show that he was trying to appreciate Oliver’s attempts, but it was clearly evident that it was forced and unenthusiastic. 

Oliver smiled playfully at Connor as he crawled across the couch to get near him. He crawled until he was over Connor’s legs and then sat himself face to face in Connor’s lap, his knees bent and his legs straddling Connor’s thighs. He reached his hands up to run them through Connor’s hair. 

“What’s wrong?” Oliver asked soothingly. 

Connor just wrapped his arms around Oliver’s lower back and leaned in for a kiss. Oliver obliged, kissing him long and sweet. Connor’s fingers toyed with the lower hem of Oliver’s shirt as they kissed. Eventually, Oliver pulled back to look into Connor’s eyes again. 

“Seriously, are you okay?” he asked, concern lacing his voice. Because this was not the composed, confident, charming, cocky, calm, cool, and collected Connor. This Connor was sad and broken. A crumbling Connor. 

Connor ignored the question and pulled Oliver in for another kiss, his hands gripping Oliver’s backside harder this time, pulling Oliver into him. Oliver moaned into the kiss a little. 

Oliver let his hands play with the edge of Connor’s hair and the back of his neck as their tongues fought for dominance. He could feel Connor growing hard underneath him, as Connor pulled their bodies even closer together. Their kissing wasn’t frantic or desperate, but he could feel Connor’s burning desire in the way that Connor’s hands gripped his back and his body tensed. Every part of Connor seemed to be yearning for Oliver.

But Oliver needed to come up for air eventually, and he also really wanted to make sure Connor was okay. So, with an immense amount of willpower, he pulled back again. His hands fell from Connor’s neck to Connor’s shoulders and he took a moment to catch his breath. Connor whined at the loss of contact.

“Connor, please. Talk to me.”

Connor just squeezed Oliver a little tighter as he averted his gaze and appeared to bite back some tears. 

“I just…” he faltered and then paused, circling his thumbs on Oliver’s lower back. “Ollie… please,” he said with a slight crack in his voice.

Oliver searched Connor’s eyes and rubbed a thumb across his jaw. He knew what Connor was asking for. It had only happened a few times since they had started dating. The first time it had happened without any conversation, just Connor manipulating the situation with his body and showing Oliver what he wanted through his reactions. Oliver had understandably freaked out afterwards, but Connor had refused to talk about it and gotten rather angry when Oliver kept trying to bring it up. So the next time Connor had attempted to get Oliver to participate, Oliver had refused. And he regretted that decision, because Connor went silent for the rest of the night and later he woke up to Connor missing from the apartment. He eventually found him sitting outside in his car, sobbing and falling apart in a way that broke Oliver to witness. So the third time, Oliver just gave in. He didn’t understand it, but it was clearly something Connor needed and he had nothing against doing it for him. And now, here Connor was again, pleading and begging with his body for Oliver to give him his fix in a way that was more desperate than Oliver had ever seen him before. 

Oliver sighed a little and pressed another long and sweet kiss to Connor’s lips. Then he pulled back and slowly and tenderly unbuttoned Connor’s shirt, running his hands on the man’s chest before pulling the shirt off completely. Connor whimpered a little under his touch. 

Oliver leaned his head down and kissed Connor’s neck. Connor tilted his chin up and his hands grabbed insistently at Oliver’s back. Oliver moved down to Connor’s collarbone and nipped at Connor, lightly at first, and then a bit harder. He sucked and bit, marking Connor’s skin in a few places. Connor gasped softly. 

Then Oliver pulled himself off of Connor’s lap and crouched down in front of him. His hands moved to undo Connor’s belt as his mouth moved to Connor’s nipple, where he scraped his teeth roughly against the skin. Connor pushed up into him, desperate for a deeper sensation. Oliver unfastened Connor’s pants and pulled them down, along with Connor’s boxers. 

Once Connor was completely naked, Oliver stood up and guided him to turn around so that he was on his knees, facing the back of the couch with his arms propped up on top of it. Oliver slowly ran his hands down Connor’s back, digging his nails deep into Connor’s skin. Connor shivered and arched under the touch.

Oliver leaned in and kissed Connor’s skin where the red lines had formed, but Connor whined in impatience, unappreciative of Oliver’s stalling and tenderness. So Oliver ran his index finger down Connor’s spine and down his ass, applying a slight amount of pressure when he passed over Connor’s entrance, to which Connor pushed his hips back to try and get more. Then, as Oliver trailed his finger back up, he took a deep breath in and without warning or any lubrication, he pushed his finger all the way in. Connor groaned loudly and clutched at the back of the couch, relishing in the burn. Oliver slowly pumped his finger in and out for a moment. 

“Ollie…” Connor whined, and Oliver knew that he needed more. That it wasn’t nearly enough. So Oliver pulled out, and gripped Connor’s hip tightly as he skipped over two and went straight to plunging three unlubricated fingers in. 

Connor cried out in pain, but he made no attempts to pull away and in fact, he was even pushing into Oliver’s hand slightly. Oliver twisted his wrist and Connor’s body trembled, a choked breath escaping his lips. Then he pumped in and out, with a rapidly building speed. Connor cried out repeatedly as he bucked his hips to the mixed pleasure and pain that was overwhelming his senses.

Once Connor had adjusted, Oliver pulled out and went into the bedroom, coming back with the vibrator Connor kept in their bedside drawer. Oliver made no attempt to ease Connor into it, and turned the toy all the way up to the highest setting before pushing it into Connor. Connor writhed and clenched his hands into tight fists.

Oliver pumped the toy in and out quickly at first, but then he decided to simply press it firmly against Connor’s prostate. Oliver looked up and saw a few tears running down Connor’s cheeks as the man trembled underneath him, but his body was responsive and urging Oliver on and Oliver knew he wasn't crying from pain, but rather whatever had left him so broken and in need of this in the first place. So Oliver didn’t dare stop. He reached around with his other hand to pump Connor’s dick fast and rough. 

Connor let out a long whine, followed by an “Ollieeeee” that was slightly punctuated by the vibration of the toy. Every muscle in Connor’s body was tensed up as he writhed beneath Oliver. Oliver twisted the vibrator, pressing into Connor’s prostate even harder, and picked up his speed on Connor’s dick. 

“Come on, Connor. I got you. It’s okay” he whispered into Connor’s ear. 

Connor keened loudly as his head fell forward, drops of sweat rolling down his scratched up back. Oliver kept pumping, urging Connor on, until Connor let out another loud cry and came in several hot spurts. Oliver slowed his movements as Connor’s body slumped, and then he gently pulled the vibrator out and maneuvered Connor so that he could collapse into Oliver’s lap. 

Connor’s breathing was heavy and his eyes were slightly lidded as Oliver pulled a blanket over him and ran fingers through his hair. Oliver would sit here with him for a while, let him recover, and then move them to the bed. Tomorrow, Oliver would ask Connor what had been wrong, even though he knew Connor wouldn’t be willing to talk about it. Because if Oliver had to pick one word to describe what Connor was the worst at, it would be communication.


End file.
